Professionalism has its place. For example, if I want to sue a television company for continuing to screen the American show “How I Met Your Mother” despite the publication of a recent study proving that exposure to this programme can cause nausea, vomiting, dizziness, high-blood pressure and psychosis; I hire a lawyer, not a member of the cast of “Law and Order”. Similarly, if I’m rushed to hospital with an angry appendix, I want to be probed by a professional scalpel-wielder, not an enthusiastic amateur with a vegetable knife.
But appalling American sitcoms and misbehaving body parts are serious matters. Sport is not. Cricket would improve dramatically as a spectacle if it were played by people who didn’t particularly care whether they won or lost. Freed from the straitjacket of professionalism, they could play according to their instincts. Viru wouldn’t have to restrain himself for the good of the team. Trott could stop fretting about strike rates. Monty could ditch the twirly stuff, come in snarling off a long run and unleash his inner Agarkar.